Letting Go
by HP Slash Luv
Summary: Harry and Hermione became friends as kids. What happens when Hermione goes to Hogwarts? Squib! Harry/Hermione; Quidditch Fanfiction Competition, round 2; might become a 2-shot


**Title:** Letting Go  
**Rating: **T (to be safe)  
**Pairing(s)/Character(s): **squib! Harry/Hermione  
**Warnings: **AU  
**Disclaimer:** Don't own 'em - not making any money off 'em. Dern it.  
**Notes: **For the Quidditch Fanfiction Competition, Round 2. Pride of Portree. Optional Prompts: shoes / Dialogue: "Please tell me you're not serious. Please." / Freedom  
**Summary:** Harry and Hermione became friends as kids. What happens when Hermione goes to Hogwarts?  
**Feedback: **Yes, please

_HP~ HP  
_

I remember when Hermione moved in next door. She was the first kid who didn't become intimidated by Dudley and his gang. She was actually as much of an outcast as me. Whereas for me it was Dudley and the obvious hatred of my relatives that made me an outcast, for her it was her studious nature and love of books.

We seemed perfect for each other and quickly became best friends. We were so different, but we could always be found together when I could get away from the Dursley's. She actually taught me to read when it became obvious my relatives weren't teaching me. Her parents helped, but it was really all Hermione.

We use to read together once I got proficient enough. I remember one book in particular. It was about a scuba diver exploring the Great Barrier Reef. The beautiful descriptions of the coral and fish made me want to scuba dive so badly.

With Hermione's help, I become top student in my class. If Hermione had gone to my school, she would have been and I would have pushed down to second place. While her motivation was a thirst for knowledge, my motivation was freedom from the Dursley's.

I was with Hermione when she experienced her first bout of accidental magic. She was frightened, but to me, it was so cool. With the Dursley's all about being "normal," I loved the idea of not so normal. I loved being part of the big secret. It made me feel special.

I felt slightly jealous, but Hermione had a special gift and I was proud of her. It didn't change the fact that I wished I had magic as well. I didn't realize I would come to hate magic in the future.

Despite her being special, she never stopped being my friend like I feared she would. In fact, she used her magic to help me. When my relatives hit me hard enough to leave marks, she would touch me, wishing for the bruises to go away, and they did, just like magic. Hermione never knew how she did it, but if she wanted something bad enough, it happened.

For example, she wanted me to have a cake on my birthday, something that never ever happened. A huge chocolate cake with chocolate frosting appeared out of thin air. With equal grins, we devoured it together. It was the best birthday I ever had.

My shoes were falling apart, and Hermione wished for me to have a new pair. Poof! It was so.

She always did things like that for me.

After she turned 11, she got a letter that was delivered by owl. I was spending time with her in her room, like I did most afternoons. By this time, the Dursley's had gotten frightened of the Grangers discovering the truth about their oh-so-normal family, especially when the Grangers called Child Services. The Dursley's didn't dare raise a hand to me or forbid me from seeing Hermione. They knew the Grangers would be suspicious if they did.

So anyways, I was with Hermione when _the_ letter came. The most horrible letter that could possibly ever come. It was an invitation to a boarding school far, far away. A school where she could learn all about her magic and how to use it. A school where she would meet other kids who were just like her.

Hermione had jumped up and down, screaming happily. She didn't even seem to notice my silence. It wasn't until Mrs. Granger took me in her arms that she realized that I wasn't happy.

"What's wrong?" she asked, confusion evident in her voice.

"Nothing," I murmured, not wanting to bring her down.

If Hermione was anything, it was persistent. "Come on, tell me. This is so cool! Why aren't you happier?"

I knew tears were coming down my face, and I felt like a huge crybaby. I couldn't help it though. I just wanted the letter to have never come. I wanted it destroyed and forgotten about. "How can I be happy? I'm losing my best and only friend."

Mrs. Granger hugged me as tears still cascaded down my face.

"No your not."

"Yes I am!" I disagreed vehemently. When I continued, I spoke quieter. "You'll be gone all year long; it's a _boarding_ school. And you'll make new friends who can do magic just like you. Why would want to keep being plain Harry's friend any longer."

She sat next to me, her brown eyes sad. "I'm sorry. I guess my mind didn't consider the boarding part. I wasn't excited about leaving you. I was excited to be able to learn about magic. I won't go though."

Even as Hermione said that, she looked crestfallen. Harry smiled, although it was forced. "Yes you are. You'll go and be brilliant. I'll be fine."

Hermione hugged me. "I _am_ going to miss you."

I hugged back. "I'll miss you too."

Our friendship continued afterwards, but there was always that anticipation in the air. Despite what Hermione said and her reassurances that we'd still be friends and hang out during the summer, I knew that nothing was ever going to be the same. She _would_ make other friends. The only question was how long it would take for her to forget about me.

She told me that she going to a special street for people who used magic. It was to buy her school supplies, and they weren't ordinary school supplies either. There were robes, cauldrons, potion ingredients, and a wand. I wanted to go, but non-magic users were allowed unless they were immediate family members.

When Hermione came back, it was already happening. She didn't have much time for me. She was too busy reading all the books she got to think about the best friend she was going to leave behind.

One day she deigned to spend time with me. She showed me one of her various books she got from the magical street. It talked all about a Harry Potter who was famous in the magical world. Hermione knew it was me, but it couldn't be. After all, I didn't have any magic.

Hermione then explained about squibs, kids without magic who were born to witches and wizards. If Harry Potter was a squib though, how did he save the magical world?

Hermione didn't have any answers to my questions, but vowed to find out the truth.

The morning she was to leave, she came over to my house. We hugged tightly while Mr. and Mrs. Granger watched on. Before I knew what was happening, she was kissing me. I kissed back, not knowing why, but knowing I wanted to. She was blushing when she pulled away and so was I. I waved goodbye as my best friend walked away.

We were eventually visited by a grumpy man with greasy, black hair who was from Hermione's world. Uncle Vernon turned purple with rage when he took out a wand and ran some tests on me. It turned out that Hermione was right. I _was_ the famous Harry Potter that she read about. The man was confused when the readings came back as me having almost no magic. With the way the man was acting, it was obvious that I had magic when my parents were alive. What happened? The man didn't know, but I couldn't be brought to the school with the kind of readings he was receiving. So once again, I was alone.

Now I had to content with the Dursley's anger that I lied about having a freak friend. I guess I was never supposed to know about my magical heritage.

A man with a long, white beard came, too. He told me all about my parents. He told me that it seemed to be that when the killing curse rebounded, it did affect me. My magical levels were depleted.

"Please tell me you're not serious. Please." I wanted the old man to say something along the lines of, "Kidding, just kidding."

All the man did was look sad and say, "Sorry, my boy."

I was angry. If it hadn't been for Voldemort, not only would I still have my mom and dad, but I'd be at that school with Hermione right then. It wasn't fair.

Hermione came back every summer with amazing stories, but she was drifting further and further apart, and nothing I did brought back the closeness of our friendship. My biggest fear of being alone was being realized.

She hadn't made many friends, but she was happy with her books, and learning about a whole different world. At least I knew I wasn't been replaced by another person. She told me about Ron Weasley and how the boy was always mean to her, going out of his way to make fun of her.

I wanted to meet this boy and teach him a lesson about what happens when he makes girls cry. But Weasley had magic in his arsenal; I wouldn't stand a chance.

Before Hermione's last year, she told me about Voldemort being back, something she had kept from me before then. She told me how she was going to help fight him. She wanted me to know in case something happened to her.

She kissed me; it was the first kiss since the day she left for Hogwarts. I eagerly pressed my lips against hers, enjoying their velvety softness.

"Take my virginity, please," she quietly begged when we parted.

I knew why she was asking; she didn't want to die a virgin. And even though we weren't as close as we once were, she still trusted me above all others.

The weekend before she was to go back to Hogwarts, I made love to her. I made sure she felt how much I cared about her. I hoped after she graduated, she'd come back. I had never loved another like I loved her.

I'm now twenty-five and Hermione still hasn't come back. I don't know if she's dead or alive. I'd like to think that if she was alive, she'd come and let me know, even if she wanted to stay in the wizarding world.

Wherever she is though, I hope she's okay.


End file.
